


Batman and Robin

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluffy McFluff, Post-Case, Professor!Lock, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 19:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: Waiting for their flight, Molly and Sherlock recapulate their undercover case at the uni. Sherlock is jealous...of the character he had invented.





	Batman and Robin

Molly let out a sigh after she climbed out of the cab, taking one last look around. Even though she loved Scotland and had spent many wonderful summer holidays here, she surely wasn’t sad to leave this time. These last two months have been, well, let’s say difficult. But hey, at last she had learned a few things about herself.  
For instance, she was very, very happy that she was done with uni. For real and for fake (that didn’t sound right…eh, whatever). Going there once had been hard enough. What had lured her going back to this kind of stress?   
Oh yes. The reason just stepped out of the cab:   
‘Professor Scott’, aka William Sherlock Scott Holmes.

  
Damn these ocean puppy eyes!  
Sitting in his chemistry classes for all these weeks had been pure torture.

Another thing she had learned about herself: She had a little kink for the college-professor-look. No, she had to specify: She had a monstrous kink for Sherlock Holmes dressed in cuddly grey wool, a white shirt and a sloppy tied tie. And the glasses! Dear Lord help her with these glasses! He looked so geekily sexy with them combined with his stupid messy curls her thoughts had gone all kinds of places that were not suitable for uni.   
And he be damned, he was still in character, even though he had solved the case yesterday. But she told herself that she had only to endure his sexiness for three more hours. Then they would be home in their own flats and he would start wearing his expensive suits and tight shirts, which was bad enough as it was.  
“We’re at gate 4”, the fake professor announced, slung his leather bag (which she still had to convince him to give to her. It was so beautiful and classic) over his shoulder, grabbed the handle of his trolley and went through the automatic doors into the airport, tripping on the foot mat.   
The clumsy professor look was complete.   
Sherlock really had been adorable these past weeks, Molly remembered as she followed him.   
Actually, Sherlock turned out to be a brilliant actor. If he had chosen a career in theatre, Molly was convinced he could have gone places.   
Sherlock, or better said Charlie Scott, had been the shyest, clumsiest and most endearing teacher she had ever met. He dropped things, he forgot his papers – or set them on fire – and set of the chemical alarm at least once a week. Of course he had done to investigate undisturbed, searching for the bodies that had been murdered, three teachers and two students, by an ambitious student named Felicity Harrold. Maybe Sherlock would have needed more than two months to catch her, for the young woman was a ruthless evil genius and cleverly had disposed of the bodies by dissolving them in acid, if she had not made the mistake by trying to kill Sherlock yesterday morning after he had set off the alarm once again and Felicity had snapped.   
Molly had never been happier that Sherlock knew his way around martial arts. The consulting detective in disguise had easily overwhelmed her and had put in end to her killing spree and her bright future as a pharmacist.   
Why Sherlock had insisted that her presence was needed on this case, Molly still couldn’t fathom. Other than sitting in his classes and studying for his stupid tests after he had given her only 37% in the first one (“37%, Sherlock?!” - “It wasn’t your best work. I recommend to revise the basics.” - “Basics?! It was about LTF! That’s A-level stuff.” - “Well, I couldn’t give you the test that I gave the others. That would have been unfair, now wouldn’t it?” - “I’m only here to help you find the murderer!” - “Nevertheless.” - “Man, you suck!” - “Watch that mouth, young lady. I’m your teacher and I  _will_  punish you if I have to.” (Needless to say Molly couldn’t sleep that night with this visual in her head)), Molly hadn’t done anything helpful. Of course she had offered to do more, but Sherlock had always refused, insisting that it would be best to mingle with her fellow students and try to find a lead there.   
Boy, it had been hell to be 21 again. She certainly didn’t miss being in her twenties. That’s another lesson she had learned. She was so much more confident now than she had been back then, had built herself a career, had a nice home, an adorable cat and the most wonderful little group of friends she could dream of.   
She even enjoyed flirting these days, even with the irritating consulting detective who stormed into her lab ever now and then…and was now tripping after his trolley had kicked his heel.   
Molly couldn’t help the chuckle that erupted her throat.   
Adorable…  
  
An hour later, Molly and Sherlock were sitting on a bench near their gate, Sherlock devouring his second sandwich and a big box of Maltesers.   
“You know that this is unhealthy, don’t you?”  
“It’s just a bit of chocolate, Molly”, Sherlock replied and snapped one of the little chocolate balls into his mouth.   
“I’m talking about hardly eating for two months and then upset you stomach by stuffing it with all that heavy food. You’ll just get another belly-bump.”  
“A belly-bump?” Sherlock repeated in disgust, a piece of ham and mayonnaise falling out of his mouth and landing on his tie.   
Chuckling, Molly picked up a handkerchief and carefully wiped it away, trying to not leave a stain.  
She shook her head at him, her heartbeat accelerating. Their heads were so close that she could see every blue and green in his magnificent eyes framed by the black-rimmed glasses. Even with his mouth full and his cheeks stuffed with food he was the most handsome man Molly had ever laid eyes on. It simply was unfair.   
“I thought you’d be tired of the jeans, the cheap shirt and and the wool by now”, Molly changed the subject.   
Sherlock chose to ignore her and bite into his sandwich instead of answering her.  
Molly sighed and reached for one of the admittedly delicious balls of chocolate.   
Sherlock slapped her hand away.  
“Hey!”  
“Professor Scott doesn’t share food”, was Sherlock’s only comment.  
“Yes, he does. He loves sharing.”  
“Being a middle child, believe me, no he doesn’t like to share.”  
“Of course he does.  _He_  is a nice guy, as opposed to a certain consulting detective I know.”  
They glared at each other.  
During these two months, Sherlock and Molly had had several squabbles like this. Debates about Sherlock’s character, what he would do/wouldn’t do, his likes and dislikes, creating a thick background story for the professor.  
At one point – and Molly couldn’t for the life of her remember how they had reached that point – they had even discussed his sexual preferences that one night sitting on the roof of the university, observing the dark courtyard and eating take out.  
Molly preferred not to think about this hour, especially how vehemently she had insisted that Charlie would be a selfless lover and always put his partner’s needs first.   
  
Moving on from the unwelcome flashback, Molly quickly snatched a Malteser out of the box. Sherlock grunted, but let it happen.   
They sat in silence for a while, sharing Sherlock’s food. It was a comfortable silence. Thinking about it, there rarely were moments in which Sherlock and Molly were uncomfortable with each other these days. They had become quite good in being around each other.  
“What?”  
Molly blinked.  
“Sorry?”  
“You’re grinning. What is it?”  
Giggling, she reached in Sherlock’s lap to help herself to another Malteser.  
“I just realized that we’ve become quite good at this.”  
“Eating?”  
She laughed.  
“No, silly. Being together. Remember the days when I took everything coming out of your mouth seriously…and you nothing coming out of mine?”  
“I’ve always taken you seriously”, Sherlock protested, stuffing the last bite of the third sandwich into his mouth.  
“Professionally, maybe, after I answered all the questions correctly you shot at me the first day we met.”  
He tried to pout while chewing – and failed.   
“But as soon as work was done, I became invisible to you. You certainly never chose to acknowledge my flirting with you.”  
Sherlock choke on a piece of bread.   
“You did what?”  
Molly laughed and patted his hand, her fingers landing in a spot of mayonnaise.   
Letting out an 'eww’, Molly reached for another handkerchief. Firstly, she cleaned her fingers and then wiped the mayonnaise off of his.   
Being caught up in her task she missed how Sherlock’s fingers repeatedly stroke the back of her hand and her palm. She didn’t even fully realized how they curled around her hand holding it in place when she wanted to retreat it. She simply took the handkerchief with the other hand and tossed it in the bin next to their bench.   
“You are a mess, Sherlock Holmes”, Molly laughed.  
“Do you mind?”  
“Hm?”

Ocean eyes behind uncut glass gazed at her seriously. Molly’s heartbeat accelerated.  
“Do you mind that I am such a mess?”  
Even after all these years, being close to Sherlock could make her feel dizzy. From one moment to the other she felt like a hundred degrees. Her hand was burning. After a quick glance down she realized that they were holding hands.  
“Is this about mayonnaise?” Molly asked, genuinely confused by the sudden change of mood.  
“No”, Sherlock said calmly.   
When she felt his index and middle finger settle on her pulse point, realisation dawned on her.  
“Okay, okay. I admit the hurt puppy look works on me. Yes, I have a thing for you in your costume, I admit it. Ha, this all makes sense now. That’s why you didn’t change. You wanted to run a little social experiment on me, didn’t you? 'Does Molly Hooper feel attracted to Charlie Scott?’ Well, you could have just asked me. In fact, the past two months should have made it clear that I am.”  
“Why?” Sherlock asked.  
Molly missed the seriousness of his tone.  
“As I said, he is a nice guy. He’s sweet in his clumsiness and his daydreaming. And he’s damned sexy in his sloppy, snuggly outfit.”  
“Is it the wool sweater jacket?”  
She giggled.   
“That, too.”  
“What else?”  
Molly shrugged her shoulders and looked him up and down.  
“I don’t know. He’s…approachable.”  
“What is that supposed to mean? I am approachable!”  
“Yeah, right.”  
He gave her an angry look.  
“Let me put it like this. Sherlock Holmes is like Batman, dark, mysterious, gloomy, dangerous. Charlie Scott is like Robin, bright colours, funny, sweet, and much more harmless.”  
“Do you like him better than me?”  
Molly frowned.  
“What?”  
“Do you like Charlie Scott better than me?”  
Finally, Molly realized how serious Sherlock was about this.  
“Sherlock, I-”  
“Oh, don’t bother. I know you do. It’s been so obvious. The way you stared at him during classes was proof enough. You snap at me but you bat your eyelashes at him.”  
“I don’t bat my-”  
“Yes, you did. I saw you”, he interrupted her loudly.   
Molly blinked as it finally hit her.  
“Are you…jealous?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous!” he insisted. “It’s just upsetting how you act when I’m wearing this ridiculous outfit. You are sweet and caring and teasing and always find excuses to touch him…it’s disgusting.”  
Molly had to bite her lip hard not to laugh. Fancy that: Sherlock Holmes was jealous of the character he had created. It was ridiculous as it was sweet.   
“And frankly, it’s very inappropriate. That man is your professor, for heaven’s sake.”  
Molly shook her head.   
All the jigsaw pieces finally matched. Her heartbeat accelerated once again as she realized what had happened without her noticing it: Sherlock Holmes had fallen for her.   
How foolish of her to miss it.   
Smiling, she put her hand in his, taking his fingers and placing them on her pulse point.

He looked at her. 

“I admit, I had a hard time concentrating in class”, she began. “In my defence, the professor was absolutely gorgeous. His eyes, and his stupid curls and that voice that travels over my skin like summer rain were very hard to ignore. Though he looked a bit forlorn standing down there, he was very smart and a surprisingly good teacher.”  
Sherlock started to smile but quickly wiped that off his face again. His eyes fixed on hers.  
“Have you fallen in love with him?” he demanded to know.  
Molly smiled and leaned in until their shoulders touched.   
“If I hadn’t been in love already, I might have.”  
Sherlock’s eyes widened. His mouth opened to ask the stupidest question he would ever have asked, but his brain luckily caught up to him.   
His eyes looked at their united hands and Molly could feel his fingers press down on her pulse point.   
When he looked at her again, a blush adorned his cheeks and his eyes sparkled.   
Molly bit her lip. With her free hand, she reached for his glasses and took them off, putting them in her bag.   
Then she looked at him expectantly, raising a challenging eyebrow.  
Sherlock cleared his throat when Molly slid closer. Automatically, he put his arm around her.   
When their upper bodies made contact, Sherlock let out a shaky breath.  
Molly’s heart beat just as fast as his.  
“So…”, he began, unsure, “I should probably begin to explain why I wanted you on this case.”  
“I think I’ve figured that out”, Molly answered cheekily, her eyes wandering over his face, so happy to be allowed to do it so openly.   
“Oh, right.” 

He cleared his throat again. His heartbeat stuttered when Molly’s hand came to rest on his back. They were still drawing closing to each other and Molly could see the nervousness clear on his face.  
“Why are you nervous?” she asked him in a whisper.  
“Why aren’t you?” he wanted to know, the thumb on her shoulder drawing lazy circles on her warm skin that caused pleasant shivers to run up her spine.  
“I’ve waited for this a looong time”, Molly joked and her smile took Sherlock’s breath away.  
“I haven’t kissed in a very long time”, Sherlock replied. Their faces were so close now that a whisper was enough to make her hear him.  
“Would you prefer if we don’t?” Molly asked seriously, making clear that she was absolutely fine to give him the space he needed by leaning back.   
Sherlock’s arm instantly tightened and pulled her close again.  
“No, I…I want to. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”  
“That’s not possible”, she smiled.  
“I have done so before”, he replied seriously and Molly’s smile faded.  
“I’m not Charlie Scott, Molly.”

She frowned.

“I know that. I never wanted you to be. I know your strengths as well as your faults, Sherlock. And I’m still here, am I not?”  
His jaw clenched and his eyes lowered to her lips.  
“Yes…yes you are”, he said in a rasp voice.   
His nose bumped against hers and Molly’s eyes fluttered shut, just in time so all her senses could solely focus on the incredibly soft pair of warm lips that pushed against hers a second later. They were hesitant, only using a little pressure, as if testing out how the kissing thing worked.   
Molly couldn’t help the little smile that spread on her lips before she answered his shy kiss and increased the pressure.   
Gently, she guided him, helped him remember how it was done, nibbling on his full lower lip before sucking it between hers.   
Sherlock let out the sweetest little sound she had ever heard. Molly’s hands wandered into his hair and he wrapped both arms around her now, pulling her flush against him.  
It wasn’t the most comfortable position with them sitting side by side, but neither of them did mind in that moment.   
Sherlock mimicked her action and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth now, causing goose bumps to spread on Molly’s back. His hand settled in her neck to steady her before he parted his lips.   
Inwardly jubilating, Molly opened her mouth as well and her fingers tightened on his locks when the tip of his tongue nudged hers.   
Experimentally, he advanced into her mouth. Molly hummed. Encouraged by this form of approval, Sherlock got braver. Much, much braver.   
Molly was a quivering mess within a minute, clutching him tight to her chest, their bodies melted against each other, their mouths locked and their tongues entangled.   
They would have stayed like this for much longer if it hadn’t been for the sound of someone clearing his throat loudly.   
Breathing heavily, Molly and Sherlock parted.   
An airport staff member, a man in his late fifties, was standing in front of them.  
“Even though I am a romantic and assume that this has been long overdue judging from the intensity you’ve displayed, I have to ask you to calm down. You are making your fellow travellers uncomfortable.”  
A look around the hall confirmed the man’s words. Almost everyone was staring at them.  
Sherlock cleared his throat and Molly blushed a deep red. Reluctantly, they parted and straightened their clothes.   
“Thank you. And congratulations.”

With that the man retreated and after a few minutes of not moving at all, the people’s interest in them ended.   
It was then when Sherlock’s hand curled around Molly’s. Moving slowly, he leaned in until his lips were brushing against her earlobe as he spoke.  
“Will you stay at Baker Street tonight?”  
A more than pleasant shudder ran over Molly’s body.  
“Hell, yeah.”  
He chuckled and interlaced his fingers with hers. Molly missed the wicked grin that spread on his lips before he spoke next.  
“I’m not a selfless lover, Molly Hooper, but I promise to make sure to always keep you…satisfied.”  
“Oh boy”, Molly gasped, Sherlock putting special emphasis on the last word.   
She had no idea how she was supposed to survive the next one and a half hours without jumping his bones.   
Then again, they could always join the mile high club…


End file.
